Monday, October 22, 2018

Eye. by Wanye F. Burke

a shag carpet of
golden leaves mixed
with brown
my brother and me
rake into a pile
and dive in:
in November the ground
turns hard
but we continue to play
and I get a lump of earth
into my eye socket
when I go down
and the socket swells and
turns black then brown
and I wear dark glasses to
and kids call me "movie star"
and ask to see the eye
which I show
every once in a while,

if in the mood.

Wayne F, Burke's poetry has appeared in a wide variety of publications. He has published five full-length poetry collections, 4 with Bareback Press, and one with Alien Buddha Press. Plus two poetry chapbooks with Epic Rites Press. He lives in the central Vermont area, USA.

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